


Unflinching Hand

by InvertedPhantasmagoria



Category: Diabolik Lovers
Genre: Affection, Alternate Universe, Bathing/Washing, Blood Drinking, Caretaking, Collars, Desperation, Domestication, Food Issues, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Sexual Slavery, Non-Sexual Submission, Past Abuse, Pet au, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Reader-Insert, Self-Hatred, Slavery, Solitary Confinement, Touch-Starved, Trust Issues, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:28:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29696418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InvertedPhantasmagoria/pseuds/InvertedPhantasmagoria
Summary: He’s going to die. That much is obvious. Subaru’s situation is one where his options are quickly running out. Behavioral issues as a child added up to a record poor enough that no one has given him a second look in longer than he can remember. His history makes him look like trouble and a liability, not anything that should be taken in and given a chance. //The shelter he lives in might as well be hell. For everything Yuuma’s been through there, he’s not entirely convinced that it’s not. He’s been there for longer than he wants to think about. His body is covered with scars from punishment after punishment; perpetual reminders that all he can do is fail.. . .Pet Au! Subaru and Yuuma find a good home.
Relationships: Mukami Yuuma/Reader, Sakamaki Subaru/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 121





	Unflinching Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hi! :D I'm at it again with another commission from tumblr that took _way_ too long to write. This one is Pet Au, with Subaru and Yuuma being adopted by a very nice Reader who gives them good things. Nothing bad really happens, but I put the "M" rating because, as usual, this Au is dark. No warnings beyond references to the abuse the boys have been through. Enjoy~
> 
> dixbolik-lovers.tumblr.com

He’s going to die. That much is obvious. Subaru’s situation is one where his options are quickly running out. Behavioral issues as a child added up to a record poor enough that no one has given him a second look in longer than he can remember. His history makes him look like trouble and a liability, not anything that should be taken in and given a chance. 

The holes in his mouth where his fangs used to be are proof that he’s  _ bad.  _ Subaru can’t stand the feel of them. Every meal spent lapping blood off of the concrete floor is a reminder that he fucked up badly enough to earn it. 

Days are spent lying on the floor of his cage, occasionally pawing halfheartedly at the chain-link walls surrounding him. Subaru finds it easier to sleep in the daytime, but he rarely dares to. Nights are long, lonely, and cold, and being unable to close his eyes during those hours is more painful than keeping himself awake all day. He’s kept in solitary because he proved himself too much of a threat to be with anyone else. He’s alone because everyone wants him to remember just what he’s done wrong. 

There’s a collar around his neck that comes with batteries. It shocks him when someone thinks he’s doing something wrong, when he looks too threatening, or just when the guards feel like it. The electric burns around his neck are getting deeper and deeper. They probably won’t fade. 

When Subaru thinks about the possibility of having an owner, he can’t help but imagine their face when they see scars, missing fangs, and  _ that.  _

Those daydreams always end in disappointment in the owner’s eyes. 

On this day, someone actually enters the small room where he’s kept. Aside from the one day a month where he’s fed and the weekly check-ins to make sure he’s still alive, Subaru doesn’t see humans too often anymore. 

“Come,” the guard says as he opens the door of Subaru’s cage. 

Obediently, Subaru crawls to the guard’s feet. A leash is clipped to his shock collar along with a few whispered words to behave himself... or else. 

As usual, no one tells him what’s happening. He could be going to get hosed down, shown to another human to disappoint, or even pulled out back to finally have a bullet put in his head. There’s no way to tell, so Subaru braces himself for the worst. Nothing good ever seems to come his way. His overgrown hair falls in his face and his tongue runs over the fang-missing holes in his mouth. He’s disgusting. He can only imagine what he looks like to the guards who have to deal with his sorry carcass on a regular basis. 

This time, Subaru is taken out to the main room of the shelter. There are a couple of vampires already there, chained up next to signs displaying their personal information, and waiting for something. This is a sales show from the look of it, and that knowledge makes Subaru’s heart sink. He’ll get to watch someone else be taken home. He’ll see his failure once again. 

As his leash is clipped next to his own signboard tacked up on the wall, Subaru manages to catch a glimpse of what the paper says. 

It’s about what he’s expecting. Temperament issues. History of aggression. Defanged. Best for outdoor keeping. These are a couple of the lines he sees. None of it is any surprise. They’re probably only putting him out, in the first place, because they’re getting another excuse to get rid of him. Subaru heaves a small sigh. Instead of looking at the others in the room, he keeps his eyes focused on the floor. This is already miserable. 

Before long, humans begin to show up. Only a couple at a time. One of them stops to look at him, but Subaru doesn’t make eye contact. He just stares at their feet as they make their appraisal... and walk away. 

Just as it should be. He can’t bear to see the look in people’s eyes when they figure out just how worthless he is. Not anymore. He’s had enough of being reminded just what a failure he’s been. Or always will be. Either way, it just makes him feel like shit. It’s better to not even try. 

But a while after, when two of the other vampires have been removed from the room— presumably purchased—, another human stops in front of where Subaru kneels. He flinches away and ducks his head. 

Instead of walking away, though, this human drops to their knees in front of him. Subaru’s chest goes tight.  _ Too close  _ is all his mind will supply. The collar around his neck itches. He keeps his eyes averted. 

“Hi there,” you say in a low, soft voice that sends a shiver through Subaru’s nerves. “Subaru, right? It’s nice to meet you. May I look at your info card?” You’re asking.  _ Asking.  _ Talking to Subaru as if he has any say in it— and as if he’s a person. No one’s directed so much attention at him in longer than he can remember. No one’s asked him a question that wasn’t supposed to be answered with ‘yes, sir’. This is way too weird. 

Even so, Subaru nods. There’s no other response he can give. 

Still kneeling, you reach up and unclip the sheet of paper pinned to the wall. As you read over it, Subaru can feel himself curling in; a subconsciously defensive measure for what he knows is coming. You’re seeing line after line of reasons why no one would ever want him. You’ll stand up and walk away in a few seconds, and then this will be over. 

Instead, you hum with interest. You stand up, taking the paper with you, and Subaru feels a spike of  _ something  _ tear through him hard. 

The next thing he knows, you’re back. A guard is with you and he’s reaching for Subaru’s leash. Panic sinks into Subaru’s lungs deeply enough that he feels his head spin. His vision whites a bit around the edges. This— This looks like what happens when a vampire is  _ bought.  _ It can’t be. There’s no way you’d look at his background and choose to pay for all of it. 

“We’ll have it delivered,” the guard says, and Subaru can’t  _ breathe.  _ This is really happening. He’s shaking. He can’t feel his fingers. 

What happens next is all a blur. The next thing Subaru knows, he’s being drug outside to a waiting truck. Under instruction, he climbs into a cage in the back, and no sooner does he turn around than the back clangs shut and plunges him into darkness. He might be hyperventilating. Either that or he’s not getting any air at all. Subaru lets himself drop to his belly. Someone just bought him. This has to be some kind of dream. 

The truck starts moving. Subaru lurches to one side with the movement and feels his stomach twist. This truck is taking him to where he’ll be kept. Where his one remaining chance will be. Where his owner is. 

He closes his eyes, digs his nails into his palms, and waits.

. . . 

The shelter he lives in might as well be hell. For everything Yuuma’s been through there, he’s not entirely convinced that it’s not. 

He’s been there for longer than he wants to think about. His body is covered with scars from punishment after punishment; perpetual reminders that all he can do is fail. His brothers have been taken away. Kou was the first to find a home, although what kind of ‘home’ it is is something that Yuuma doesn’t like imagining. Ruki was next, then Azusa. And then, Yuuma was alone. He’s been alone for a period of time that he can’t count. 

Labor types are hard to sell. He’s been rented out for work here and there, but coming from a shelter like the one he’s in, getting someone to actually purchase a vampire only good for hard work is difficult. He knows that a construction company has considered him, but that’s about it. 

And Yuuma’s size and strength don’t help matters. While they do make him hardy and able to withstand quite a bit of abuse, humans don’t like being around vampires like him. He puts people off at first sight. 

He’s been well-behaved enough not to be kept in solitary, but that’s small comfort. Sitting in a cage surrounded by those who either die quickly or find homes is just depressing. Yuuma wishes he could go somewhere,  _ anywhere  _ else. Sometimes he even wonders if being put down would be better. Living without his brothers is a permanent ache, and the only thing stopping him from letting himself be killed is the thought of how much it would hurt them to know that their protector isn’t there anymore. 

There’s no chance they’ll ever meet again, but Yuuma can still pretend like his staying alive does some good to keep them safe, wherever they are. 

When he’s not rented out, Yuuma’s days are filled with a whole lot of nothing. He lies in his cage, observes the other vampires around him, and waits for something mildly interesting to happen. It rarely does. 

Nights aren’t too bad. When the guards aren’t there, the vampires relax a bit. There’s less pressure to be on their best behavior... or risk getting hurt. Yuuma tries to sit up straight and look good when people are around. It feels stupid and is probably fucking useless, but at least it makes him feel a little more like he’s  _ working  _ to find somewhere to belong. 

After the humans have gone home, though, Yuuma lies on the floor and lets himself feel his misery in full. He’s determined to get through this, but sometimes, wallowing in his unhappiness is all that helps ease the pain. 

Maybe he’s gotten bitter. Thinking of a human taking him into a new home doesn’t bring quite the same hope it used to; just an aching feeling of knowing that it’s not gonna happen. He’s been here long enough that he’s gotten the message. No one wants him, and that’s how it’s going to stay. 

One day, when Yuuma is fighting his natural urge to be asleep, a human is brought into the holding room. It’s a different one than usual. Your smell stands out among the guards, and the presence of you sets every vampire in the room on edge. The prospect of getting out of this nightmare is weighing on everyone’s shoulders. They all think the same, Yuuma knows; if someone buys one of them, maybe, just maybe, something other than starvation, beatings, and lives spent in cages might be waiting. 

A guard leads you around the room. You stop at each vampire’s cage and hear the guard’s quick description of who’s inside of it. Yuuma watches you tensely. You stare with curiosity at each vampire that’s introduced to you. Even when the guard has nothing good to say (they want to sell some more than others), you listen intently, calmly, a serene expression held. 

Yuuma’s breath starts to come short. A hulking, uncomfortably large half-breed like him isn’t going to find a home, but that doesn’t stop useless hope from surging in his chest. The naive parts of him still  _ want.  _

Maybe it’ll happen this time, stupid thoughts try to insist. 

Waiting just raises his anxiety all the more. Yuuma’s cage is one of the last ones you’ll pass by. He has to sit there and watch you inspect everyone better than him. Chances are, you’ll make your choice before you even get to his cage. The knowledge that hope will be torn away once again hurts. 

Finally, you and the guard reach his cage. Yuuma straightens his posture on instinct. He hates putting on a show, but maybe, maybe—

“This one is a labor type,” the guard starts, “as you can tell. It’s big and too strong for its own good. No history of violence and it’s been rented out a few times for jobs just fine, but... well, you can see why people don’t want it. No one’s too comfortable with the ones that get this big.” The words cut deep. Yuuma  _ hates  _ that he can’t even try to prove himself. 

He has to force himself not to make eye contact. He has to be good. 

“How long has he been here?” you ask. There’s something in your tone that isn’t disgust or dismissal. Yuuma shivers at the softness of it. 

“Uh... Don’t know. It’s been since before I worked here. I can ask the manager if you’d like.” The guard sounds confused. Yuuma is just as much so. He hears you hum quietly and the hope in his chest  _ spikes  _ too quickly. 

“I’m done looking. Let’s go discuss prices.”

Just you saying that is enough to make Yuuma’s stomach lurch. It’s a vague enough statement that it could mean anything. You’re either actually going to  _ buy  _ him, or seeing him was enough to prove that you should choose someone else. As you leave the room with the guard, Yuuma tries to stifle the involuntary feelings clouding his head. The burn scars over his shoulders and back  _ ache.  _ There’s no way he can be good enough, right?

Yuuma waits in his cage for what feels like forever. A guard re-enters the room. As the other vampires fidget and stare, the guard approaches Yuuma’s cage with a leash in his hands. The world grinds to a halt. 

“Come on,” he says. “Let’s get you outside.”

It’s happening. Yuuma could either cry or be sick, and he doesn’t know which. After watching all of his brothers be bought, it’s finally his turn. 

The guard takes Yuuma out back where an old truck with chipped paint and a missing part or two is waiting. Yuuma is guided into the small trailer hooked up behind it, where his leash is clipped to the hook inside. The door shuts, plunging him into darkness, and reality quickly sinks in. 

It’s over. His time of living in the shelter is actually  _ over.  _ It feels impossible. After watching everyone else be taken away, Yuuma was certain that he’d spent the rest of his life in that cage— at least until someone decided to put him down. But you looked at a scarred, massive vampire with years of waiting behind him and decided that he was worth buying. 

Of course, he’s expecting more of the same; hard work just like what happened when he was rented out in the past. A cushy home with an indoor life and nice things is beyond his reach. If he’s lucky, you’ll feed him more often and maybe not hit quite as hard when he’s punished. His job might be something better than digging ditch-graves for vampires pushed to their limits or put down. The idea of working in a big, open yard for an  _ owner  _ enters his head and settles in deep. Yuuma tries not to get his hopes up. 

The trailer begins to move, Yuuma swaying unsteadily inside of it. He has no idea what’s waiting for him. This is probably his only chance. If he fucks it up, he’s not going to get to try again. He’ll be as good as dead. 

. . . 

When the truck comes to a stop, Subaru jolts to attention. He’s here. He waits patiently for someone to open the door, and, at last—

It’s you. It’s his owner. The door opens up and he meets the eyes of the human who decided that he’s worth something. An immediate shiver tears through him. Subaru drops his gaze and tries to look small. 

“Come here,” you say. Your voice is so, so soft. 

And Subaru obeys. You clip a leash to his collar. He thinks he sees you frown, which sends a shock of nervousness deep into his chest. But instead of scolding him or striking him, you just step back and allow Subaru to slowly climb down from the truck. With a quick word to the driver, the truck pulls away, leaving Subaru outside your home with the one who owns him.

You lead him up your driveway and hold the front door open. Subaru has to climb up a couple of steps, but as soon as he’s inside, the reality of the situation hits him hard. Your house seemed big from the outside, but indoors, it’s quickly sinking in that you’re well-off. The furniture is clearly nice, rich carpet lines the floor, and a comforting smell instantly hits his lungs when he inhales. Subaru feels himself curl in. This is too good for him. The fact that he’s being let indoors at all comes as an unexpected shock. 

With a gentle hand on the leash, you guide him through a couple of rooms. Soft carpet pads Subaru’s palms and knees instead of hard concrete leaving bruises. You take him through one more door, and then—

It’s a relatively small room; enclosed. In one corner, there are two piles of blankets and pillows next to each other, each spread over what looks like a cushioned pad on the floor. Next to each one is a hook that looks like it’s meant for a leash. A closed door to one side of the room leads somewhere unknown. An open closet is on the opposite wall. There are some more pieces of furniture as well, including two chests of drawers, a mini-fridge, and a couple of bookshelves. The whole room is pleasantly warm. A light on one shelf emanates a sweet, relaxing smell.

Subaru breathes in and feels anxiety settle in his stomach. This is too nice. It’s starting to seem like this room is meant for him, but it  _ can’t  _ be. This is too nice for a vampire; let alone a labor type who should, reasonably, be kept in a shed outdoors where it can’t break anything or get in the way. 

You unclip his leash. 

“This is for you,” you say plainly. “The bed closest to the corner is yours. The door over there leads to the bathroom, and you can touch and use anything here. You’ll be staying here with another vampire, okay?”

Subaru can’t look at you. He’s  _ shaking.  _ You have to be lying to him or setting some kind of trap. Even so, he nods silently. Disrespect would be worse than falling for a trick. You’re offering him a nice thing, and he damn well knows that he should be grateful for it. His fingers flex in the carpet as he thinks about what a  _ bed  _ would feel like under his sore body. 

“I’ll be back soon. I need to help the other one who’s arriving. What you’re supposed to do is lie down over there,” you point at ‘his’ bed, “and rest. I want to see you comfortable when I get back.”

It’s an order as clear as anything. You leave the room, closing the door almost all of the way behind you. Subaru feels sick with cold, sharp panic. 

He  _ knows  _ he’s not allowed anywhere like that, but his owner has ordered it, and he has no choice but to comply. You’ll surely punish him for it when you get back, which he’ll deserve, but... he’ll also get a few minutes of lying somewhere  _ soft.  _ Compared to a cage, it sounds too good to be true. 

Crossing the room, Subaru approaches the bed. He places a tentative hand on the edge of it. The squishy pad molds to his hand. With a heavy swallow, he slowly, warily crawls into the middle of it all. 

As soon as he’s lying down, Subaru can feel himself shaking. This is the most comfortable place he’s experienced in his  _ life.  _ On his side, he dares to tug one of the blankets over him. You said you wanted him to be comfortable. He’s... he’s obeying, right? Letting himself sink into this and  _ breathe  _ is doing what his owner says. Subaru closes his eyes with pure bliss as he instinctively snuggles into the soft things. He could stay like this. 

. . . 

Eventually, the truck pulls up somewhere. Yuuma, during the ride, has become so tense that he can feel his shoulders hunching up. This is a dangerous situation. He has to be on his best behavior— no matter what. 

When the door opens, he flinches. He’s met with the face of the person who bought him, and  _ that  _ sends a shock of fear through him fast. 

“Hi there,” your gentle voice says. Yuuma shrinks back on instinct. 

You clip a leash to his collar with more care than he can process. You guide him down to the cement of your driveway. As the truck pulls away, Yuuma looks around warily. You’ll probably put him where he belongs now, or maybe get him to work right away. He’ll learn what his place is here. 

Instead, you guide him up the driveway... and inside. Yuuma’s breath catches hard. This isn’t right. He’s not supposed to be let indoors. Unless it’s a building fit for them, labor types are kept outside where they belong. Where they can’t get anything dirty or make an eyesore of themselves. It’s housepets and companions who stay inside and at their owners’ feet. 

But you lead him through your main room anyway, through a richly-furnished house that sets every one of Yuuma’s nerves on edge. 

By the time you reach another door, Yuuma might be shaking. This isn’t right. You’re treating him like something he’s not, and he’s already terrified of when this will come crashing down. The countless scars marring his body ache in anticipation of punishment, of new marks that won’t fade. 

The room past the door isn’t anything too remarkable— or at least, Yuuma doesn’t think it is. Something that’s spent its entire life either on the streets or in a cage doesn’t have much of an idea of what the inside of a home is meant to be like. He never really expected to be in one, after all. 

Yuuma notices the furniture and other objects first, but his vision soon settles on two bed-nests of blankets and other soft things on the floor. And then, he realizes that the one closest to the wall has someone in it. 

A vampire, to be specific. 

That makes him tense up. It’s a housepet, probably. Someone that you’ve owned for a while already. He’s going to have competition, and that’s not a good thing. It suddenly makes sense why you brought him in here; you’re introducing him to the other one. The one who has your attention. 

But when the other vampire sits up, Yuuma quickly realizes that he was very wrong. This one has posture that can only come from someone in Yuuma’s same situation. It’s the familiar way of sitting used by one who’s trying to look small and harmless. His matted fluff of white hair and downcast red eyes aren’t the traits of a loved housepet, and his obvious insecurity is a quick clue-in that this vampire isn’t used to being here. 

You call the other vampire over. He looks terrified. At the same time, you unclip Yuuma’s leash and stand back with a fond smile. 

“Alright. Subaru,” you glance at the other one, who’s now flickering back and forth between starting at you and himself, “Yuuma. I’m going to explain a couple of things and make sure you two are on the same page. First of all, you’re both labor types. I bought both of you earlier today.”

Yuuma swallows. He thinks he can see where this is going. You’re probably going to test them and see which one is worth keeping. 

“I intend to take care of you,” you continue. “There won’t be any hurting. I’m not the type who likes to see people in pain. If we need discipline, it’ll be done fairly. What I want is to see both of you healthy, happy, and well. So please, try not to be afraid of me. I may be your owner, but I don’t want to hurt either of you. You’ll be safe here.”

It’s a ridiculous series of statements. Yuuma is instantly set on edge, and from Subaru’s tensing posture, he can imagine that the other is as well. You might be trying to sound nice, but both of them know that that’s not how things work. Even good intentions rarely lead to good results. Yuuma’s spent enough time living with the worst kinds of humans and surviving on the streets to understand that good things like that don’t fall to vampires. 

But just as Yuuma is trying to judge your actual intentions, though, you slowly drop to your knees. Subaru makes a light choking sound while Yuuma sucks in a breath. This... isn’t something he’s seen before. 

You turn to him first. Yuuma feels a shiver run up his spine. 

“Come here, please,” you command. Yuuma obeys. 

He crawls the couple of feet forward to reach you. Sitting right in front of you, at the same level, towering over you because there’s nothing else he can do, Yuuma feels like he’s doing something he really shouldn’t be. 

Instead of striking him or anything else, you reach out to him. Your hands find the tight, hard-leather collar buckled around his throat, and slowly, carefully, you undo the buckle and slide it off of his neck. The slight brush of your warm fingers against his skin makes Yuuma suck in a breath, but then— Then, once you’ve set the collar in your lap, you drag those fingers through Yuuma’s dirty, knotted hair. It’s not to pull. It’s just a slow caress matched by a tender, pleased smile directed right at him. 

. . . 

Subaru watches what unfolds in front of him with disbelief. Not only do you lower yourself to their level, seeing the careful work of your hands as you undo Yuuma’s collar and— and  _ pet  _ him gently feels impossible. You said yourself that both of them are labor types. Yuuma is a giant of a vampire who has obvious muscle even while half-starved. This isn’t normal. 

Understandably, Yuuma shudders and goes stiff when you run your fingers through his hair. Subaru knows he’d do the same if someone did that to him. He watches the softness with something close to jealousy. 

And then, you tell Yuuma to move over a bit... and call Subaru to your side next. He all but flinches. There’s no way. There’s no way it’ll happen. 

He obeys. Kneeling in front of you makes Subaru feel much too large and awkward. He doesn’t dare to close his eyes, though, not even when you reach for his neck as well. You undo his collar just the same, placing it in your lap along with the other one, and then, in an answer to prayer that feels like it can’t be happening, your fingers find Subaru’s hair as well. Even though it’s matted and gross, you pet him like there’s nothing wrong. 

“Alright. Those are off,” you say to both of them, still absentmindedly petting him. “I have new ones for you two that I’ll put on you once you’re clean. That’s what we’re handling next, so come with me, please.”

Your hand leaves Subaru’s head. Embarrassingly, he leans after it without trying to. You stand, gesture at them, and they follow. 

Subaru spares a glance at Yuuma, who apparently had the same idea. The other vampire looks about as tense and distrustful as it gets. There’s something hardened in his eyes that makes Subaru think he’s been through some horrible things. And yes, Subaru lived with his brothers for a while, but by now, he’s unused to sharing space with another vampire. He’s been in solitary for long enough that even this interaction is making him nervous. 

You take the two of them into the attached bathroom. It’s... nice. Everything is clean. The floor is tile, there’s a showerhead near a drain against one far wall and a bathtub next to that. That’s where you take them. They both kneel on the tile side by side, and you reach for Subaru first. 

A quick order ends in him stripping off his worn, torn pants. Modesty isn’t a concept that matters to vampires, so Subaru doesn’t think twice.

“Come here,” you gesture. “I’m going to get you cleaned up. That’s all. Nothing will hurt.” When Subaru obeys and kneels under the showerhead, you pat his head again— a reward too kind and easily-given to be right. 

When you take the detachable head down and turn on the water, it’s as cold as Subaru’s expecting. A few flecks of it spatter against his skin. He shivers. Getting chilled is always bad. Vampires run cold, which makes such things effective for keeping them weak and contained. But the water slowly warms, and it’s not until the temperature is comfortable that you turn it onto him. Warm water trailing down his skin draws another shiver. Subaru leans into the heat unconsciously. It’s warming him from the outside in. 

The next thing he knows, you’re setting the showerhead aside and picking up a bottle of what he guesses to be soap. You ask if he can wash himself or if he’d rather you do it for him, and Subaru is frozen, stunned for long enough that you decide for him. The feeling of your hands on his skin is so, so much. Subaru’s eyes close from pleasure and fear combined. Before, humans touching him has always just hurt. This time... it’s different. 

He’s so overwhelmed that for a minute or two, reality slips. Subaru registers your touch  _ everywhere, _ but he experiences it distantly. The extended contact is so much pleasure that he can barely breathe. You don’t do anything that hurts; just efficient, gentle cleaning, careful of his scars. 

And then, water soaks through his hair. Subaru jolts and tenses, but the feeling of heat sinking down into his scalp has him leaning forward with a soft, pleasured sound.  _ That’s  _ the best feeling yet. The best one of all. 

Your hands there are next. You massage soap into his matted, nasty hair, combing out tangles with careful fingers. Subaru is pretty sure he’s whimpering, but that doesn’t matter. This is the most attention he’s ever received. Is this what being a housepet feels like? Is this what it’s like to be good? He doesn’t know, but he sinks into every second of touch. 

All too soon, it’s over. You rinse the soap out of his hair and off of his body... but pet him a little more while you do it, just because you can. 

. . . 

What Yuuma sees is a total shock. You’re treating a labor type just like him with the care he’d expect to see directed at a coddled, treasured thing. With warm water, sweet-smelling soap, and gentle, careful touch.

He swallows heavily, stunned. Is... that going to happen to him too? From the look of things, it is, but could it really? Yuuma’s fingers curl against the tile. The other labor type, Subaru, seems to be floating in a haze of pleasure. Yuuma would be too. He watches as you rinse all of the soap off of him, then stroke his white hair a couple more times just to be kind. 

Then, you’re calling  _ him  _ over. Yuuma jolts to attention. His pants go off as well, and he settles where the water is warm. Just as he was hoping, you turn the heated stream onto him as well. Even though his scars are sensitive, Yuuma sighs at the feeling. It’s  _ good.  _ He’s only ever been cleaned with hoses and harsh soap while he’s been in the shelter, and worse things before it. His eyes flutter closed as his body starts to relax. He knows he shouldn’t trust too easily, but the pleasure and comfort are dragging down his defenses by force. And that’s before you start to touch him. 

When your soap-slick hands do find his body, Yuuma almost startles out of his skin. He’s instinctively anticipating pain, but it doesn’t come. Instead, he gets the blessing of small, warm hands touching him in ways that set every nerve alight. He can barely breathe, let alone think straight. 

It goes much too quickly. 

You move onto his hair after what feels like moments. While the sensation of heat sinking into his scalp makes Yuuma shiver, it’s nothing compared to what happens when you begin to scrub his filthy hair. 

The drag of your fingers against his scalp makes Yuuma  _ moan.  _ He pitches forward, almost hitting the ground, ducking his head forward to lean into the contact desperately. He... never knew that his hair was that sensitive. Just the feeling of you combing through the tangles and carefully scrubbing the dirt and grease out of his hair is leaving him shaky and feeling weak all over. He never knew that something could feel so impossibly good. 

By the time you deem him clean enough and go to rinse the soap from his body, Yuuma might as well be floating. The fog of pleasure settled over him is incredible. He’s never felt anything like this before. He’s never felt so treasured. His whole self is thrumming with gratefulness and need. 

Now that both of them are clean, you go about drying them off with soft, fluffy towels and gentle hands. You don’t leave them to shiver. Yuuma accepts the contact willingly, still feeling much too dizzy and weak. 

And then, they’re guided back out to the main room. Yuuma eyes ‘his’ bed warily. After all of that, he’d like to sleep, but... is that an option?

“Okay,” you say. “I have things for both of you. Nice things.”

Your smile is brilliant and too kind. You pull some objects out of the two chests of drawers, then kneel in front of both of them once again. Yuuma tenses at that until he sees what you’ve brought over this time. 

Collars. Two of them. One a pale, soft, tangerine-orange and the other a vivid crimson red. They’re both made out of fine, soft-looking leather and buckle with shiny, untarnished metal clasps. There are tags bearing what Yuuma assumes to be your name and address, neatly carved in. 

“Come here,” you say to him. Yuuma’s throat feels much too tight. 

You buckle the collar around his neck with light touches and careful hands. No skin is pinched and it’s not fastened too tightly. The padded leather sits around his neck perfectly, snugly, and without any flaw. This is a collar fitting something wanted and well-kept. Not what he is. Yuuma can’t meet your eyes for fear that any act of disrespect would make this end. 

. . . 

Subaru watches you fasten the collar around Yuuma’s neck with stunned envy. Rationally, he knows that the crimson one sitting beside you is most likely his, but that doesn’t change the spike of fear that he’ll be left out. He’s not good enough for nice things, Subaru knows that much.

But instead, when you’ve made sure that the first collar is sitting comfortably, you call for him next. Subaru sits still and shocked while you put the softest collar he could have ever imagined around his neck. The soft leather and internal padding are blessings against the scarred, raw skin where the shock collar used to rest. This one can’t hurt him. That thought hits Subaru hard. You... You must not think that he needs that kind. 

The next thing you do, after giving Subaru’s head a quick pat, is reach for the other things next to you. Clothes.  _ Human-looking  _ clothes. 

They aren’t the old, cast-away, threadbare things that vampires usually get. No, these are clean, soft-looking, and new. You lay a shirt and pants in front of each of them and say that they need to dress themselves. You’ll be right back, and you want to see them dressed when you return. 

Subaru runs his hand over the cloth as you leave the room. It’s soft. 

“Hey...” Once the door closes, Yuuma speaks up. “You’re a labor type, ain’tcha? Like me?” The question makes Subaru tense up a bit. \

“Yeah... what’s it matter?”

“Just thinkin’. About why that human is doing... this. The whole indoors thing. The bath and the nice collars. It’s weird, ain’t it? Don’t ya’ think that it’s gonna turn out to be some kind of trap?”

Yuuma has a rough voice and an uncultured twang to his speech that’s strange to hear. Subaru considers the fact that he’s being spoken to by someone other than one of his brothers or a guard. It’s been a long, long time since he was out of solitary. Interacting with another vampire just feels strange and vaguely uncomfortable. He’s not used to this at all. 

“I don’t fuckin’ know,” he replies. “We’ll just find out, I guess.”

Sighing, Yuuma moves to pull the shirt on. Subaru copies him. It’d be wise to make sure that they’ve obeyed before you get back. 

“Dunno. It’s kinda too good ta’ be true. Never thought I’d get handled like this...” Yuuma trails off in a way that Subaru can understand perfectly. He knows just what the other is thinking. Neither of them is meant for this kind of life. It would be easier if you’d just do what humans always do. 

They both have to stand up to get the pants on. Subaru sways on his feet when he does. He’s not used to standing, and it makes him feel uncomfortable and too large. From the way that Yuuma hunches over, he can imagine that the other vampire feels the same. As always Subaru’s mind flickers to the wish that he could have been born small and delicate. 

Like  _ her.  _

Before anything else can be said, you’re back. The door opens and Subaru flinches on reflex. His body is expecting pain, just as usual. 

As soon as you get close, Subaru’s stomach clenches  _ hard.  _ He smells blood. His starved body internally twists and spasms from need. When you kneel in front of them again, it’s with two cups carefully held in your hands. Subaru’s mouth fills with saliva. The smell is killing him. That can’t be what he thinks it is. You’ve been nice so far, yeah, but that would just be unreal. He swallows, then has to do it again. His hunger is getting the better of him and scrambling his head until he can barely think. This can’t be real. 

You hand him a cup. It’s filled with blood. Real blood, from the smell of it. Subaru clutches it with both shaking hands, terrified that he’ll drop it, spill, and waste. This close, the smell has his stomach tying itself in knots. 

“Drink,” you say. “It’s for you, so drink it. As much as you want without making yourselves sick.” You hand the other cup to Yuuma.

Subaru stares at it helplessly. De-fanged as he is, he usually has to lick up his meals from the floor. When they bother to feed him. Giving him a cup is a bizarre kindness that makes his chest feel tight. Yuuma still has his fangs... and yet, you’re keeping things the same between them. A part of Subaru dares to hope that you’re trying not to make him feel inferior. 

Yuuma caves first. While Subaru is still anxiously hesitating, Yuuma brings his own cup to his lips and takes a long, deep swallow. With wide eyes, he drains the rest of the cup so quickly that it’s sad even from Subaru’s point of view. He’s starving. They all are. There’s a reason why humans keep their kind underfed and weak. When the cup is finally empty, Yuuma’s lips are smeared with blood and a look of worship takes over. 

He wants to thank you. That much is obvious. But vampires don’t dare to speak unless told, and the two of them are no different. Subaru’s throat closes up. He wants to drink so badly, but he can’t— he can’t be  _ bad _ —

Your hand lands on his shoulder. Subaru flinches, barely managing not to spill in his momentary panic. But you don’t hurt him. You squeeze his shoulder lightly, comfortingly. Subaru tenses up all over, but... your touch is warm. It sets him at ease at the same time that it makes him nervous. 

“It’s for you,” you assure him. “Please, drink. I want you to be fed.”

Paralyzed by kindness, Subaru hesitates. Then, finally, he raises the cups to his lips. He’s shaking so badly that he almost spills it, but then blood is rushing over his tongue and down his throat, and his stomach does such a sharp, awful twist at actually having something in it that he swears he’s about to puke. He drains the rest of the cup anyway, so desperate for something in his belly that it doesn’t matter if it makes him sick. 

But the cup is empty soon, and Subaru is left licking his lips for every trace of metallic flavor. That’s the first meal he’s had in... weeks, at least. He hasn’t been worth regular feedings in quite a while, after all. 

You’re smiling at him. You look pleased. 

. . . 

Yuuma watches you coax the other vampire to drink almost nervously. Anyone else would have snatched the cup back for ungratefulness— or punished both of them for drinking at all. It doesn’t make sense that you’re allowing these things so easily, without consequence. Without pain. 

“Good job. That was very brave of you. I’m proud.”

With those words, you take the cup from Subaru with one hand and pet him with the other. Your fingers comb through his damp, increasingly fluffy hair, stroking lightly, and Subaru’s expression returns to that of pure desperation. His eyes flutter shut and he leans into the touch involuntarily. Yuuma can’t judge him for it. They’re all starved for it. He’d have no more dignity if you were praising and rewarding him like that. 

You only pull back when Subaru looks so blissed-out that he can barely stay upright. Then— you press a quick  _ kiss  _ to his forehead, tender as can be. Yuuma tenses with shock. That’s... a lot. So much more than is right. 

Setting the empty cup aside, you scoot over to Yuuma next. “You did great too,” you tell him, smiling. “Come here.” 

Yuuma obeys. You take the cup from him as well, then just as you had with Subaru, your hand finds his hair. Yuuma  _ shudders  _ at the feeling. He’s learning quickly that that part of him is sensitive. Just keeping himself from tipping over into the touch of your fingers and the light scrape of your nails is difficult. He wants to lean into it until nothing hurts ever again. 

Unbidden, his mind flashes to thoughts of fire, to his scars, to his  _ brothers,  _ who will never experience these moments of kindness. It makes his chest clench up tight. If only they could have this too. If only. 

“Feel good?” you ask. Yuuma can barely whimper in response. 

For all of his size and strength, you’re handling him like he’s something small and sweet. Like you’re not afraid of getting hurt. The thought of remaining indoors, a treasured housepet for you and you alone, makes Yuuma shake even more. If this could  _ last,  _ if it really could, he’d be so, so careful to never do anything wrong. He’d work on talking better. He’d never break anything. He’d be quiet. Anything to ensure that these feelings could go on for even a little longer and for you to think of him as good. 

But all too soon, your hand is gone. Yuuma comes close to pitching forward. His face is burning. He wants  _ more,  _ but taking is never allowed. This is only his first day out of the shelter, and already, he’s getting addicted to gentle touches and eyes that look at him with approval for the first time. 

“Alright. I want you two to rest now. Your beds are right over there, remember?” They both shakily nod. “It’s been a long day. You’re clean, full, and from the look of it... sleepy. So go take a nap for me, okay?”

Yuuma nods again. Those beds... they’re really meant for the two of them. Soft things are everywhere. It’ll be the complete opposite of a hard, concrete floor making everything hurt. Yuuma has to admit that he’s about as tired as it gets. Now that he’s relaxed a bit, it feels like all of the stress in him is melting out at once and dragging him down with it. Sleep sounds wonderful, and if you’re actually allowing it, he’s not going to disobey. 

You stand up, and with one more smile, leave the two of them alone. 

After glancing at each other, they both crawl over to inspect their... beds. Subaru has been in his before, but Yuuma is left testing the soft, yielding surface nervously. With so many blankets, it’ll be  _ warm.  _ The padding will mean that nothing will hurt. It’s so perfect it’s scary.

“This is really...” Subaru starts, then trails off. Yuuma understands exactly what he means. The hesitant nervousness is a mirror of his own. 

“I think so,” he says in response. “I mean, we were told ta’ sleep. And going against an order is prob’ly worse than getting punished for doing what our owner said...” He stares at the bed again. “It was nice, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. Too nice. We aren’t meant for this shit.”

But they obey. Yuuma goes first, settling himself on the mattress as carefully as if you were going to storm in at any second and scream at him for it. Nothing bad happens. He just lies down in such softness that his perpetually aching body heaves a sigh of relief. No more cages. No shed outside, barely protected from the cold and the weather. Just this soft, perfect bed where his owner has told him in no uncertain terms to stay. 

Subaru copies him, every bit as nervously. They both lie stiffly for a moment, but the comfort soon gets the better of them. 

“This is...” Yuuma starts. 

“Too good for us,” Subaru finishes. 

“Maybe it’ll last.” It’s hard to believe, but voicing it makes it feel a little more real. “Maybe we got lucky. I’ve heard that there are some humans who just wanna spoil things like us. Fixer up projects, y’know?”

“There’s a lot to fix. You’ve seen what state I’m in.” Subaru ducks his face. Yuuma understands why. Missing fangs are the greatest shame for any vampire; a sign that they fucked up badly enough to warrant that kind of punishment and correction just to make them realize it. 

Yuuma lies still. For a moment, he just lets himself breathe. This is better than the streets and better than the shelter. Even if the ones he loves can’t have it too, he can live happily for them. He can be okay. He’ll  _ make  _ this okay so that at least one of them can have what they always longed for. Staying here won’t be too bad, so long as he doesn’t fuck it up. He’s already had a taste of treatment better than he thought was possible. 

“We should sleep,” Subaru says, quieter than before. 

“Yeah.”


End file.
